Deadfall by Chris Ryan | Extract

7/22/2019 Deadfall by Chris Ryan | Extract

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FUN WORLD

JOHANNESBURG, SOUTHAFRICA. SATURDAY. 11.00HRS

There had been a thin layer of frost on the ice-cold bottle of Coke. Beads of condensationran down the glass.Just like the bead of sweat that ran down the side of Zaks face.

This should be an easy op. Why, then, did he feel so on edge?He hadnt touched his drink. He was too busy looking through the window of the caf.Zak could only half see his reflection, but it still surprised him. In another time and place,

he might have thought he looked stupid. Not now. This new appearance had a purpose. Hishair had been dyed blond and cut scruffily short. He had put in a set of blue contact lenses.Fake tan had darkened his skin. With his bright red baseball cap on the table in front of him,he looked like a surfer dude. Not a teenage boy who spent all his time living on a windswept

island off the coast of Scotland.Amazing how easy it was to change the way you look.He glanced across the table at Gabs. His Guardian Angel always managed to appear a

little bit glamorous, even when she was in disguise. Today you could only see strands of herblonde hair tumbling down below the edge of a peaked beret. She wore a T-shirt with asparkling Rolling Stones logo. In front of her was a half-drunk cappuccino.

You should take a sip of your Coke, sweetie, she murmured. If anyones watching . . .Nobodys watching.Zak!Gabss voice was suddenly severe. Zak flushed. He knew better than that. If Zak or Raf,

or Gabs, or anyone hed met in the time his ordinary life had become extraordinary, and hed

gone from being Zak Darke to Agent 21 was conducting sur veillance on someone in thiscaf, would theynotice him?

Not a chance.And it worked both ways.A single sweep of the caf told him that any one of a number of people could have eyes-

on. The waiter wiping down the coffee machine behind the bar. The tired mum with two kidseating ice cream at the next table. The waitress who had served them . . .

He gave Gabs an apologetic nod and took a pull on his Coke.Then he stared out of the window again.They were staking out a toy shop called Fun World. Four storeys high, and wide enough

for six separate window displays. Each window was painted with a large picture of a clowns

face. They were supposed to look happy, but they just freaked Zak out he almost felt as ifthey were staring straight at him, and he had to suppress a shudder.

Once, when he was much younger, Zaks mum and dad had taken him to the huge

London toy shop, Hamleys, to see Father Christmas. Fun World was similar in size, butnowhere near as busy.

Bottom line: this place gave him the creeps. It didnt look much fun at all.Which kind of figured.Because it wasnt like Agent 21 and his Guardian Angels had been sent to South Africa to

go shopping for toys.You think hes in there? Zak asked.Cruz?Zak nodded. Of courseCruz. Cruz Martinez, his former friend turned Mexican drug lord.

Cruz Martinez, whose father had ordered the deaths of Zaks own parents, and had taken around from Gabss gun for his trouble. Cruz Martinez, who hed last seen falling from a


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sinking ship into a stormy sea. Who everyone had insisted was dead, even though Zak knewin his heart he was still alive. Whose very name caused Zaks flesh to grow cold.

Whom intelligence operators had spotted three times in the past month visiting this verytoy shop.

And nobody thought he was there to buy teddy bears.

Yeah, said Zak. Cruz.I doubt it, Gabs said. Saturday morning and everything. I dont think hed rock up whenits busy.

Its not thatbusy, Zak observed.Gabs shrugged. Not a lot of money in this part of the world for buying toys. She looked

through the window of the caf. Theres Raf, she breathed.She was right. Raf had suddenly appeared. He was standing outside the main door of

Fun World, and had removed his lightweight linen jacket and slung it over his shoulder. Thatwas the signal. It meant hed staked out the surrounding area and hadnt seen anything

suspicious.The op was a go.Gabs drained her coffee cup and motioned at Zak to do the same. Remember, she said

to him. This is surveillance, nothing more. Understood?

This is surveillance, nothing more.

Zaks handler Michael had used those exact words during their briefing session just two daysago on the bleak island of St Peters Crag that was now his home.

Youre the only one whos been inside the Martinez inner circle. All you have to do is

determine if anybody you saw during your time in Mexico is working at Fun World.Surely they have security cameras in the store, Zak had said. Cant you just hack in to

those? I can look at the pictures, tell you if theres anyone I recognize. That would be safer,

wouldnt it?Much safer. Unfortunately, all the CCTV images are encrypted and uploaded to a server

elsewhere. Weve had our best people on it. They cant even locate the Fun World server, letalone decrypt the images. The only way were going to do this is by putting you on the

ground. Now listen, Zak: if you recognize anyone, do notrepeat do nottry to apprehendthem. Leave that to the experts. You just need to look like a kid in a toy shop. Its the only

reason youre there.* * *

Understood, Zak said.Even though hed just downed his Coke, his mouth felt dry. It was always like this in themoments before an op. A mixture of excitement and fear. You could get addicted to it. Zakalready had.

He reached out to grab his phone. An important device. If he was in trouble, all heneeded to do was type a code 6482 and Raf and Gabs would receive the distress calland be there in seconds.

As he picked up the phone, it vibrated. A single buzz. The screen lit up and Zak and Gabsexchanged a glance. Only four people knew this number: Zak himself, Gabs, Raf andMichael back in London.

He picked it up and swiped the screen.His eyes widened. It was a picture message. The black and white image was grainy it

looked like a still from a CCTV image. But there was no doubt of what it showed: Zak, a bagslung over his shoulder, walking through customs at Johannesburg O.R. Tambo airport. Thathad been two hours ago.

Beneath the picture were the words: Welcome to South Africa. Malcolm.Zaks eyes narrowed. He showed the screen to Gabs.

Malcolm?How on earth did heknow we were here? she said.The cogs in Zaks brain were already working overtime. Malcolm was a highly intelligent


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computer hacker who had helped Zak during his last mission in London. A weird guy, butbrilliant. The authorities wanted to keep him under lock and key, but Malcolm had escapedtheir clutches with Zaks help. Zak and his Guardian Angels were the only people who knewthe hacker was living off the grid in South Africa, and theyd kept quiet about it. The guy

deserved a break.

Zak was quite convinced that there wasnt a computer system Malcolm couldnt breakinto. That included airport security, and here was the proof.Stands to reason, he muttered.What does? Gabs said.If I know Malcolm, hell have hacked into the airports systems and will be running facial

recog nition software on anyone who comes through. A kind of early-warning system, incase anybodys coming to get him.

Gabs thought about that for a moment. I dont like it, she said.Me neither.We should abort. She raised one sleeve to her mouth, ready to speak into the hidden

comms microphone wirelessly linked to Rafs hidden earpiece.Like lightning, Zak grabbed Gabss wrist and lowered it back to the table. He understood

her panic. They were supposed to be off the radar and it looked like theyd beencompromised. But Zak didnt see it that way. Malcolm was an odd-bod, no question. Not thekind of guy youd want to be stuck in a lift with. But he was OK with Zak. This was just his

strange way of saying hi.I trust Malcolm, he said. Itll be fine. And anyway, maybe we could turn this to our

advantage.What do you mean?If Malcolm can hack airport security, he can hack the CCTV in a toy shop. I know Michael

said hed put his best people on it, but I bet none of them are as good as Malcolm. We knowwhere he lives. Zak tapped his phone to bring up an address. Number sixty-seven MandelaDrive. Its nearby. Why dont we just ask him? He looked over at Fun World. Its safer than

walking straight into the lions den.A moments pause. Then Gabs shook her head. We have our orders, she said. Lets get

this over and done with.She left a bank note on the table both Zak and Gabs had a pocketful of cash, just in

casethen they both stood up and left the caf.The brutal African heat hit Zak like a hammer as he stepped out into the street. So did the

noise of the busy road. Car engines, horns, people shouting at each other. They waited for agap in the traffic, then crossed. Neither of them spoke to or even acknow ledged Raf. AndZak didnt give Gabs any word of farewell. He simply peeled off and entered Fun World,leaving her to take up her position outside.

Time check: 11.13hrs.The first thing Zak heard was the music being piped round the shop. It was soft but

freneticthe sort of thing youd hear in a Tom and Jerry cartoon. Music that begged you tohave fun. He zoned it out and concentrated on his surroundings.

He estimated that there were fifty customers on the ground floor. Half of them adults, halfchildren. And there were ten shop assistants, each wearing a smart red blazer. One of themwas juggling with four balls. Another was demonstrating a small, remote-controlledhelicopter.

One side of Fun Worlds ground floor was devoted to teddy bears. Tiny ones, huge ones,

and every size in between. There was nothing menacing about them, but like the clownpictures, they chilled Zak. For a moment he stood statue-still, and thought back to hisbriefing session . . .

Watch this, Michael had said, handing him an iPad. Zak had tapped the screen and avideo clip had started playing. There was no sound, and the camerawork was juddering. It


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appeared to have been taken in an area of jungleZak could see thick, lush vegetation inthe background. But the focus of the picture was a flight case on the ground, wide open,

containing perhaps 200 cuddly elephants.

A hand appeared on screen. It held a scalpel, which it used to cut open one of these

elephants, up to its breast, under the head and along its trunk. The hand folded the soft toy

inside out, to reveal a plastic bag filled with a white powder.Cocaine, Michael had said. Very high quality. Stashes of drugs like this have been

popping up all over Asia, and a fair few in Europe too. Its not a bad hiding place, the guts of

a soft toy . . .

Not a bad hiding place, Zak muttered to himself. Then he shook his head. Surely none of

the toys on display would be hiding any cocaine. He watched a little South African girlholding a Hello Kitty up to her mum, who shook her head and firmly put it back.May I help you, sir?

Zak blinked. A shop assistant was standing in front of him. He was young, probably noolder than sixteen, and had a name badge on his red jacket: Junior. His skin was black, andhis hair twisted into scalp-tight dreadlocks. Each of his cheeks had a thin, pale scar rising

from the corner of his mouth to his ear.Like a smile.Zak didnt recognize the face. He relaxed slightly. Harry Potter wands, he said. Do you

sell them?Of course, sir. Third floor. Shall I show you?Dont worry, mate. Ill find them. Told my sister Id get her a Hermione one.Zak cursed inwardly. Keep a lie simple. The less information you give someone, the fewer

holes they can pick in it . . .Junior looked puzzled. Who is Hermione? he asked.Shes . . . Never mind. Thanks for your help, mate. Zak nodded at the shop assistant and

headed towards the escalators at the centre of the shop. As the moving stairs carried him

towards the first floor, he looked back down over the ground floor. The shop assistant withthe weird scar was now nowhere to be seen.

He circled the first floor. There were fewer customers here, Zak realized, as he steppedpast Xboxes and PlayStations and through a section of video-game cartridges. Every timehe saw one of the shop assistants in their smart red blazers, he took a mental snapshot oftheir face. None of them rang any bells.

Second floor. Jigsaw puzzles and board games. He saw one kid drawing a house usingan Etch A Sketch and felt a sudden pang as he remembered doing the same thing with hisdad.

Keep your mind on the job, he told himself.To his ten oclock, in the far corner of the store, he saw a ceiling -mounted CCTV camera.

A red light was flashing next to it. Was it Zaks imagin ation, or had he just noticed a tiny

movement of the lens?CCTV cameras move all the time, he told himself. Relax. Youre nearly done. Another

couple of hours, youll be on a plane out of here.Third floor. It was practically deserted. He walked past Lord of the Ringsfigurines, and

models of characters he didnt even recognize.Harry Potter this way, sir!Zak flinched and turned suddenly. Junior had appeared from nowhere and was now

standing right next to him. He grinned and nodded. This way, sir. This way. He pointed towards the far side of the toy store. There was a small replica of a castle,

surrounded by wands and cloaks for sale. Zak shook his head. Its all right, mate. ImThis way, sir. You must come! Junior lightly touched Zaks right arm and led him towards

the miniature castle.Zaks senses moved into high alert. Suddenly he wasnt in control. He yanked his elbow


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away from Junior, but he was now aware of a second red jacket to his left-hand side.Another young man. He had the same scars as Junior on his face.Zak felt a chill in his guts and his eyes flicked around the toy store, looking for an exit,

while his hands felt for the phone in his pockets. He needed to make the distress call.Too late.

At exactly the same time, the boys grabbed an arm each. Their grip was strong enough tohurt as they dragged Zak towards Hogwarts, where he could just make out the sight of morered jackets lurking behind the castle entrance.

He gathered all his strength and suddenly released it in a frenzy of struggling. But theboys were powerful. They continued to drag him towards the far side of the store.

Through the entrance into the toy castle.It was cramped in here. Maybe four metres by four. But three more boys in red jackets

were waiting for him.That made it five against one. Bad odds.The walls were lined with shelves full of toys. Two of the boys were holding Harry Potter

wands, the thin ends in their fists, the thick ends ready to strike.Crack!One of the wands slammed against his head. Then a second. Zak felt his knees

wobble.One of the guys punched him in the pit of the stomach. Air whooshed from his lungs and

he bent double. A knee came up and cracked against the underside of his chin.He was on the the floor, looking up. Five boys in red jackets were kicking him brutally, as

hard as they could, in the stomach and the face. Blood spurted from his nose, hot and wet.He tried to cry out in pain, but without air in his lungs he couldnt.

Suddenly, one of the boys dropped to the floor. He was kneeling by Zaks side, and nowhis face was inches from Zaks. He too had scars on his cheeks. And he was holding something in his fist. It looked like a yellow golf ball, but was covered in black packaging.Zak saw the words Golden Snitchprinted on the box.

The boy sneered and Zak saw yellow teeth like tombstones. He was bizarrely aware of

the piped music still playing in the background.The boy spoke. He had a whispering, rasping voice. Welcome to Fun World, he said.

Then with a grunt that suggested he was using all his strength, he whacked the snitch downon Zaks forehead.

A moment of blinding pain. A searing white light.Then everything went dark.


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Deadfall by Chris Ryan | Extract